The Dark Lady
by ornylumi
Summary: A journey through the memories of Bellatrix, seen through Harry's eyes, searching for the real reason why she became what she was: the most cruel and loyal Death Eater. The story is translated from Italian, so forgive me for any mistakes.
1. An answer

_- An answer -  
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It was already evening when Harry woke up in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. There was silence all around: who was there was sleeping, the others were probably in common room or still around the castle. He had had a restless sleep, as it was conceivable; populated by events that had occurred one after another that night, and that had not really given him the rest he needed. Harry got up slowly, consoled with the idea that he could sleep again in a few hours. Without really knowing why, he hid under the Cloak of Invisibility before exiting: perhaps, the death of all those people (although it had not been in vain) was still too hard to accept, and he felt the need to be alone.

After a few steps, it was clear that the festive air hovered still, several hours after the end of the battle. Teachers, students and their relatives were still meeting to comment on the events, and to make plans for a certainly better future. Harry gave them a smile they could not see, then he continued to walk the corridors aimlessly, until his feet led him in the Great Hall, or what was left; the walls would be rebuilt easily, he thought, but the bodies they still hosted would leave their memory there forever. After entering the door, Harry realized immediately he was not alone: there was Neville too, next to the Gryffindor table, and he seemed intent to put on it some vials with a silver-white content. Overcome by curiosity, Harry took off his cloak and approached. They contained just what he expected, and the label placed on each of them confirmed that.

"Hey, Harry" greeted him Neville, slightly surprised to see him there.

"Hi Neville. What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm gathering thoughts" he replied, nonchalantly. "It 'amazing, is not it? A lot of people decide to leave their memories in the world, before they die".

"So… You know that memories can be collected? Do you know about thePensieve?" Harry was a bit surprised.

"Yes, I do. I saw one in Dumbledore's office once. I knew immediately what it was, because my grandmother has got an almost identical one. She says that it's useful to remember what over time she forgets!" The boys laughed together, as the idea of Neville's grandmother dipping into a milky liquid took shape in their minds.

"You know, I think we should give these to their families. Perhaps, there is something in there they would want to say,but they have not had time to do".

Harry nodded sadly, sliding one by one the names on those labels. He thought of Fred, of Lupin and Tonks… and their baby, who would grow up without his parents. No one could know better what it meant than the two boys in that room.

"What you do is admirable, Neville" he complimented.

"It's just an idea, that's all".

Harry was about to say goodbye and leave him to his mission, when a particular writing came under his eyes: a name and a surname, light and glaring on the label, the last he would have expected to see there.

"Her?" he asked, with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Why? What do you want to do with the memories of Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Neville turned quiet, serious, as if expecting at any moment that question. "I want to know, Harry. I want to know why she did what she did".

"But there's not a reason! She was a Death Eater, like any other. She carried out the orders of Voldemort".

Neville winced for a moment, hearing that name. Harry wondered how long it would take for people to stop being afraid, even now that he was gone.

"Well, not really. She was a woman, one of the few, and she was also the worst. She took initiatives alone, sometimes… Her master was gone, when she tortured my parents".

Harry lowered his tone, trying to be understanding. "Tonight you avenged them very well, Neville. You have shown the valor of a very Gryffindor, and you killed the snake. You cannot imagine how important this is".

"I know, we won, and I'm happy. But that question is haunting me all my life. Now that it's all over, and I get the chance, I want to look for an answer".

His words seemed to leave no escape for any opposition. "Are you sure, Neville?"

The boy nodded gravely. Harry, instead, had a lot of doubts: he feared that the idea would not lead to anything good, and that, indeed, would give him just an unnecessary pain.

"Are not you afraid ... To see her, while using the Cruciatus Curse on your parents?" he could not help but ask.

That time, Neville did not show the same control of a second before. "In fact, it's the only thing I fear. But I can run away, right? After all it's only a memory, it cannot trap me".

Harry was quite agree, but not yet convinced. "Leave me to do it, then" he decided. Neville looked at him blankly. "I'm quite used to go in there, and to see a lot of things, even unpleasant. If I feel like it's worth it, I will give you the bottle. At least you'll be prepared. "

Neville hesitated for a moment, perhaps to assess whether he should trust him. "I will give you it, I promise" Harry reassured him.

"Okay" he decided finally. He picked up the bottle with the memories of Bellatrix and handed it to Harry.

"I'll be back in a minute".

While returning, for the third time in a few hours, in the Dean's office, Harry wondered if he had made the right choice. The temptation to go outside and throw everything to the winds was strong, he had to admit it, but he had made a promise to a friend and would keep it. The truth was that the idea of entering the mind of that insane woman made him sick, and gave him also a certain fear. As accustomed to see death and pain, what that woman had done in her life must have been unimaginable, and he was not sure of being ready. He was afraid to revise the time when she had killed Sirius, which must have been an overwhelming joy for her. Harry hated Bellatrix with all his heart, and nothing in the world would have changed his mind.

He tried to ask, once again, if at least the effort would lead to a result. What could be good, as a possible mitigating factor for the crimes she had committed, in the memories of such a person? He also hated Snape, when he collected his memory, but then it was different: he was looking for an answer, which he had found and which had changed everything. And now, in fact, even Neville wanted an answer. Plucking up courage, Harry took a deep breath and walked over to the stone gargoyle.


	2. Slytherin girl

_- Slytherin girl -  
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Dumbledore was dozing in his portrait, in the same way as the other headmasters around him. Harry was glad not to explain to anyone what he was doing, because a word of regret would have been enough to change his mind. He pulled out the stone Pensieve from the cabinet, put it on the desk and opened the vial with his hands. For a moment, he hoped naively not to succeed, but the cap rose immediately as if waiting for that. Harry poured the well-known liquid into the basin and dived, after having sighed one last time.

His feet left the floor and came back to Hogwarts, but in the Great Hall. Many students were sitting around the tables, and teachers – more or less, the same people who Harry knew – were occupying their usual positions, while a Sorting of many years before was taking place.

As in Snape's memory, professor McGonagall was calling the boys one by one. When "Black Bellatrix" was named, a young girl with long black hair came over to the Sorting Hat, looking resolute and happy. That eleven-year-old Bellatrix showed no sign of what she would become, Harry thought; she was only a child like all the others, excited to be at school for the first time. As soon as the Hat was placed on her head, he shouted what everyone would have expected to hear: "_Slytherin!_"

The other kids of that House welcomed her with fervor at their table, and the stout fellow sitting next to her told she had arrived in the right place.

"I'm a Black, all my family belonged to Slytherin. I could not come at a different House" she said, haughtily.

The boy, who looked about two years older than her, replied with a whistle of surprise; probably, he had not heard Professor McGonagall when she called Bellatrix. "Black, you said? Well, my best wishes! You'll need to keep abreast of your predecessors. From what I heard, this will not be easy".

"It will, instead" she retorted, with thundering eyes. "And you, let me know, to which noble family belong?"

"Lestrange" he replied. Harry realized in that moment that he had to be Rodolphus, although it was already clear from the traits. Bellatrix had just met her future husband, and yet, she seemed disappointed with that answer, as if expecting less 'pure' roots.

"I've heard about it" she had to confess.

"Have you _heard_? My father's deeds are famous throughout the city! He fights to defend our lineage, to free us from the scum of Muggles and Mudbloods that's increasing more and more. When I grow up, I will follow in his footsteps".

Harry had expected such words, as the Bellatrix's smile that followed; some sympathy had replaced the initial hostility, and this was probably due to the sharing of ideas. There would be a lot of situations like that, he was sure, and this was also the least that could be expected.

"After dinner, if you like, we could go together to the Trophy Room. There are many of them which belonged to my ancestors, and even yours, possibly".

Bellatrix seemed to agree. In fact, in that moment the scene vanished and soon after it reformed: the two children were running, one before another, in the empty corridors toward the Trophy Room. "Hurry up" Rodolphus was saying. "By now, we should already be headed to the dorms. If the Prefects discover us, we'll be in trouble".

"I'm surprised at you! You've been here for two years and are still not able to handle them? In your place, no Prefect could stop me, if I wanted!" Rodolphus turned to her with irritation, maybe wounded in pride. It seemed that Bellatrix did not lose occasion to provoke him.

"Behold, here we are". The two entered the room furtively, but luckily for them there was no one inside, either Peeves. As they approached the crystal glass displays, Bellatrix looked around with rapture, delighted; Harry didn't know anyone to whom that room had ever made a similar effect. Matter of taste, he thought.

"Look, this plate belonged to my grandfather, who gave me his name. And this medal to my uncle, who bears my brother's name. Oh, look, there are also several Blacks… as I supposed".

But Bellatrix did not pay much attention to what he was saying. Her eyes went from one object to another, without really lingering on anyone. Only a plaque, then, seemed to awaken her interest for more than a few seconds: it was burnished gold, conferred for special services rendered to the school. Absolutely familiar to Harry.

"Oh, and of course…" Rodolphus added, noticing on what object she had focused "there is him, too".

"Him?"

"Yes. Don't tell me you don't know who he is!"

"T.M. Riddle? No. Should I do?"

The boy smiled in satisfaction, probably because he had managed to be more aware than her. "You disappoint me… The Dark Lord, Bellatrix! He was a boy one time, and he studied _here_! That was his birth name, we all Slytherin know this. There was talk about since he left school!"

"He… Riddle…" Bellatrix was speechless with surprise.

"He had a lot of awards: Prefect, Head Boy… And he learned here, at Hogwarts, all that he knows! Think about what we could become, in the same House and with the same opportunities…"

"The same?" she addressed him. "Of the greatest wizard of all time? Now you disappoint me, Lestrange!"

"No, well… I wanted to say…" Rodolphus was stammering, unable to complete his speech. But once again, Bellatrix was not listening; she had lowered to the ground, beside the same cabinet that contained Riddle's plate, and was pulling out a book.

"We really should go now… What are you doing?"

Bellatrix stood up, with the _Book of Prefects_ in her hands. She began to leaf through it without deigning to reply.

"What is it doing there? I've never noticed it… And then, what are you looking for?"

"How many questions!" she snorted. "I don't know why it is here, but I've seen and I've got it. And now I want to search for Riddle, to find out if you told me the truth".

One after another, countless photos of former Prefects were following each other through the pages. Rodolphus was waiting, bored, while she turned over the leaves, with a disappointed look every time that it was not Tom Riddle. At the end, however, her research was lucky: a young Voldemort, with all his charm, was smiling at her from a magical photo.

"Do you see?" Rodolphus addressed her. "Next time, learn to trust me".

"Here he was… Different. Compared to how I saw him in magazines, I mean. But yes, it's him. The Dark Lord…"

She put emphasis on those last words, without taking her eyes away from Riddle's ones. She was looking at him as he was a movie star, rather than the mad murderer who was. And in that moment, the glow of her admiring gaze made clearer than ever what she would become: a Slytherin girl, in all respects; a future Death Eater.

_Notes:_

_Thanks to all for the alerts, and especially to Amazon Star for the review! I hope you will enjoy the chapter, sorry for mistakes!_


	3. Bella's plan

_- Bella's plan - _

Thrown into the next memory, Harry found himself in a different place of Hogwarts again. It was a long low chamber with stone walls, illuminated by a strange green light all around: the Slytherin common room.

It took him a little to recognize Bellatrix among the other kids who were there, sitting to study or talk. It must have been a few years since the Sorting: her features were much more adult, and the little innocence they revealed seemed to be totally disappeared. In its place, an incredible determination was left, as she was focused on the parchment in front of her. She had to be, Harry thought, almost fifteen or sixteen years old; she was also really pretty, and Harry considered with terror that, if he had known her at that age, he might even like her.

Bellatrix seemed not to hear or see anyone around her, as she wrote tirelessly with a black cat curled up on her legs. Suddenly, though, a skinny boy with a shy look went over to her table. He called her only after a few moments, as if afraid to dare so much.

"Bella..?"

"I'm studying, Rab! I have the Transfiguration essay for tomorrow! What do you want?" The tone with which she had attacked him instilled into Harry all the possible understanding for that poor.

"I know, in fact I wouldn't have bothered you, but… "

"Indeed, so why are you doing that?" She stopped him. She had not raised her eyes from the parchment yet, but did at that time. "And then, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be where I told you to be?"

"That's where I come from! He has arrived, Bella".

She raised her eyes on him again, longer this time. "What?" she asked in a whisper.

"He's in the Headmaster's office, as you said".

At these words, Bellatrix sprang to her feet with a start, dropping to the ground the poor animal that let out a bothered meow.

"Are you serious? Don't tease me, Rab!"

"I would never do". That scared look left no doubt about his honesty. Even Bellatrix seemed to be convinced, because in a moment the fury in her eyes gave way to a sweet expression, a delighted smile.

She disappeared in a flash, leaving cat and homework without hesitation, and Harry had to run a lot not to lose sight of her. They passed together through the opening in the wall, travelled corridors and climbed a floor after another, until they faced with the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office. They both leaned against the wall, out of breath.

It took a few minutes, maybe half an hour before something happened, and Harry realized what they were waiting for. Footsteps were coming down the stairs, revealing little by little the long figure of a man: tall, wrapped in a black cloak, a flash of anger in his eyes and a red light, that Harry could never forget… Voldemort.

He passed close to Bellatrix without deigning to glance at her, but she called him, her voice choked with emotions: "Sir…"

Voldemort turned bothered, with little intention, evidently, to start a conversation.

"Sir, permit me a word…"

"Who are you?" he asked, gazing at her.

"My name is Bellatrix Black". Harry noticed she had placed special emphasis on her family name. "I'm a Slytherin. I've always been admiring you, since the first time I heard about your name… And finally, I have a chance to meet you in person. Let me that, please…"

Voldemort kept observing her, as to evaluate whether that teenager deserved a bit of his attention. "So nice to meet you, Bellatrix" he said, finally. Specifying her name and her own House, she must have hit the mark. A large smile widened on her face.

"I… I wanted to ask you something, sir. I have been thinking of that for years, since I started studying in this school. I learned so much, I dare say I'm the best in almost all the subjects, but for that, Hogwarts is not good enough anymore. I'm fascinated by the Dark Arts…" She took a step toward him as she spoke, passionately. "But I already know how to defend myself. Now I want to learn how to use them, and make them mine, but this school won't allow me to. So, I thought, who better than you could teach me that? You are the most experienced, the best teacher anyone could wish for…"

A slight smile crossed Voldemort's face, but Harry could not say if he was sincere or if he would rather mock her. "You know me well, girl" he said. "Then you should know also that I'm not a teacher. I have no time to give private lessons".

Bellatrix bit her lip, but her answer came soon after, as though she knew to have an ace up her sleeve. "Actually, I didn't. I knew that teaching was your wish. Why asking for a job to the Headmaster, otherwise?"

Voldemort frowned; the hint of a smile was gone. "Have you been eavesdropping?"

"No, I'm just informed. I know you asked for it years ago, and I suppose you're back for the same reason".

Only in that moment, Harry remembered that he had already witnessed a similar scene. It was in Dumbledore's memory, the last time he met Voldemort, and when Riddle had asked for the teaching assignment. His appearance, not human but not yet so much like a snake, was the same than then. He was watching the second part of the story, what happened after Dumbledore had sent him away.

"Since you are so well informed" he continued "you will know also that your dear Headmaster has denied me the place. I cannot teach you, or anyone else".

Bellatrix shrugged. "I've never liked Dumbledore. He doesn't look for the best for his students, not for everyone, at least. The purity of blood and the real abilities are not important for him. Very silly, I think".

"I couldn't agree more with you, Bellatrix." It was true; it seemed that she did it on purpose, that she was trying every possible trick to get his approval. "But unfortunately, this is so. Like I said, I don't give private lessons. And now I must go".

Of course, thought Harry. He had to go to the seventh floor, in the Room of Requirement, to hide the Horcrux he believed impossible to find. When Voldemort began to walk away, Harry was sure that the conversation was over, but he was wrong. Bellatrix made a strange gesture, unpredictable: she pulled out her wand and pointed it right into Voldemort. She didn't even have time to cast a spell, though, that he was near again, clutching her right wrist with such force that she dropped the wand.

"What are you doing? What were you thinking of doing?" he attacked her.

"So it's true… You can read minds". She kept looking at him and smiling in a strange way, almost mischievous, as he held her firmly. She showed no fear for what he could do, almost enjoying that grasp, as though she had done everything only for that moment, to get Voldemort's hand on her wrist. When he finally released her, Harry could swear he had seen her darkening for a moment.

"I would never try to harm you, not you, sir... Let me show what I can do, what I can become. Teach me the Dark Arts."

They stood looking at each other in silence, for several long seconds in which Harry expected to see unleashing wands again, but this didn't happen: it was Voldemort to speak again.

"Can you get to Hogsmeade? Would you be able to leave the castle at night? "

"Yes, no problems, sir! I know all the secret passages to the outside".

"Well. Then, when your friends go to sleep, go out and come to the Hog's Head. That's where we meet, my friends and I. We'll see what you can do".

Bellatrix couldn't believe her ears, she seemed the picture of happiness. "I won't disappoint you, sir".

She stood looking at him as he walked away, massaging her sore arm lightly, almost caressing it; she had reached her goal.

_Notes:_

_Sorry for delay, I have got a lot of things to do recently, and translating is a difficult job. Enjoy the chapter ^^_


	4. Friends and lies

_- Friends and lies -_

And so, that's the great answer to give to Neville: Bellatrix had become a Death Eater for sheer idolatry, to be accepted in the circle of the "powerful" who made headlines. Perhaps, even to look good among her fellows and feel better than they. Too bad she'd never stopped, even when she realized who was really in front of her. Harry was deeply disappointed and was almost thinking to leave the Pensieve, when he found himself back in the Slytherin common room, but in a completely different situation. The state of agitation around him was palpable, and persuaded him to stay against his will.

At center stage, standing between students of all ages, there was Horace Slughorn. He spoke with an angered and worried tone that Harry could not remember of having heard from him. All around, a thousand frightened faces were following his speech, not daring to interrupt him. Only Bellatrix, sitting by the fireplace, seemed totally indifferent to everything. She watched the flames in front of her, as if struggling to stay awake. Two deep dark circles were marking her face, as a possible consequence of her night lessons.

"Are you listening to me?" screamed Slughorn. "Do you understand the gravity of that?"

"Yes, Professor." A girl who could be of the second or third year had found the courage to answer. "But things like these happen more and more often, lately. What can we do?"

"Not in the school surroundings!" He snapped. "Hogwarts has always been considered a safe place. And now, there are strange rumours of Dark Magic rituals practiced right here, in the road which leads to Hogsmeade or in the Forbidden Forest. Last night a Muggle was tortured! And a student was seen leaving the school during the same hours. Now, for some reason, when things like these happen the students in my House are always the prime suspects".

The silence grew, if possible, even more intense, while Slughorn stared at his students one by one. "I don't want to hear stories like this anymore" he continued. "And I don't want reason to doubt your good conduct. If it's forbidden to go out from the castle at night there is a motivation, and everyone here is smart enough to figure it out. Can I trust you, from now on?"

Around him, the various faces began to nod. "Well. Good night then, boys and girls". The Professor turned back and disappeared into the hidden passage in the wall.

"Don't you care about what he said?" Rodolphus had approached Bellatrix. He, too, had grown a lot since the last memory.

"Not very much. Why should I do? He would never doubt me, the best of the course and the most appreciated in his club". Yes, Harry thought, a Black couldn't but be part of the circle of Slughorn's favorites.

"You're tired" he continued. "It's for the study, or perhaps you sleep too little?"

Bellatrix didn't answer. She kept staring at the fire, blankly.

"Where do you go, almost every night?"

"You know very well".

"It's true, I know. But I expected you to tell me, and yet you've never done. I thought we were friends".

"This doesn't mean we have to tell everything each other, Rod".

"This was part of the things you should tell me". Suddenly, tired of her indifference, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Now Bellatrix seemed more awake than ever.

"You planned this for years, since the first day you got here. You put my brother and other boys guarding the hallways, just because the Dark Lord _could_ arrive. Just because I told you he wanted to teach! You thought I would never find out? I don't understand, Bella. We're friends, we want the same things... Why keeping me in the dark?"

"Don't talk as though you told me everything!" she yelled. The few guys who were still here ran to take refuge in the dormitories; it seemed that everyone feared her wrath. "Your father is one of us. He paved your way, Rod. And you've never spoken about that, even if _we want__the same things_".

"_Of us? _You're a…"

"Not yet" she replied at once. "But I'll be, when I get seventeen. My Lord has promised".

"I understand". The conversation had taken a different turn, and now it was Rodolphus the accused party. "Anyway, I mentioned my father".

"Oh, of course! I forgot the _heroics_! I thought he beat for our rights to the Ministry, not that he was a Death Eater".

"Okay, you're right" he admitted. "But I was almost afraid to tell you that, for as you seemed obsessed with the Dark Lord. Anyway, you know everything now. We can reveal".

"You're curious, I understand". Her tone had changed now, it was definitely quieter. And patient, as if about to explain something to a child. "So, I'll satisfy your interest. Do you want to know how I get out of the castle? There are a lot of steps, I'm sure you know at least one. Last night, however, I found strangely opened the front door, and so I got out of there. You know, a little danger excites me. Filch might have seen me, but I'm confident, I'd got the hood and he couldn't recognize me. I left in a hurry and Disapparated".

"Did I hear right? You can already Disapparate?"

Bellatrix laughed. "I can do a lot of things, Rod! You have no idea of the wonders the Dark Lord is teaching me! At first, the others didn't believe in me, you know? They made fun of me, a girl who plays the Dark Witch… Including your father. But then, they had to thing again. I'm already smarter than most of them, the _adults_. I don't care their views, however. I only care what my Lord thinks of me". She had always that dreamy, unconceivable air, when she spoke of him. "That Muggle was there by chance, while we were practicing with our rites. He was curious too, too much. In my opinion, it was enough to clear his memory, but I wasn't listened. They wanted to have some fun with the only thing I can't do yet. But it's just a matter of time; I'll surpass them, even in the Unforgivable Curses".

Rodolphus stood silent, clearly impressed by those revelations. He seemed to struggle between his pride and the desire to ask to be taken with her. At last, he decided on a middle way: "I knew you were smart. But I'll be too, don't fear. I expected to be on age, to ask my father to participate in those meetings. You're just ahead of the times".

Bellatrix replied with a sarcastic smile. "I'm going to bed" she decided. "Like you said, I'm very tired". She stood up, leaving Rodolphus by the fire, and approached the girls' dormitory. On the threshold, however, she turned back.

"It's good for you to know immediately, Rod" she rebuked him. "When it comes to the Dark Lord, I have no friends".


	5. The Dark Mark

_- The Dark Mark -_

The scene had changed considerably. A jump of miles, and perhaps years. Now, Harry was outside, in what looked like a forest on top of a hill. It was dusk, the sky was tinged with a more and more intense, dark blue... An unusually beautiful scenery, to serve as a backdrop to two characters like those.

Bellatrix was beside Voldemort and seemed to beg for something. She was a young woman now. A black robe had taken the place of the school uniform, and her whole appearance gave off a sense of rebellion and independence. Not from him, of course; she hung on his every word more than ever.

"I don't understand, my Lord" she said. "You made me a promise. And when you said I wasn't ready yet, I waited, I continued to learn and do everything you asked me... I'm almost twenty, now. What I'm still missing? In what I disappointed you?"

"It's a fair question". Voldemort stared at her from top to bottom, seemed lost in thought. His voice sounded more cold and cutting than in their first meeting.

"I've made it myself many times. Actually, it seemed you never made mistakes, Bellatrix. You learned quickly and were never tired. As though serving me was your only desire..."

"It is, my Lord!"

"…And perhaps that's why, in a few months, you were already smarter than the others, wizards with many more years of experience. You seemed perfect".

Her face brightened and darkened soon after because of that verb in the past. "And then what happened, my Lord? What I did wrong?" she asked again. But the answer didn't come.

"I wondered why. Why you did it, why you came and look for me when you were only fifteen. Nothing was able to stop you, to scare you. But it wasn't for honor, I knew you don't care about it. You were, and are, different from the others. What you do, in fact, is for me. Just for me".

Bellatrix smiled happily, but he continued to look at her harshly. For some incomprehensible reason, what he was making wasn't an appreciation, but a reproach.

"I couldn't believe it. A witch like you, the best, who was outdone by the dumbest weakness. By what our enemies use as an excuse to think themselves better than us".

"I… I don't understand, my Lord".

"It's very simple". He stared at her as coolly as possible. Bellatrix was panting, waiting to know her terrible fault. "You _love _me".

He had put in that word all the contempt of which he was capable. Harry took a few seconds to associate it with its true meaning, so little it matched with the tone in which it had been spoken. Suddenly, that opinion seemed plausible, if not obvious. Even now she was a woman, Bellatrix had not ceased to adore him with the same, incredible strength. The fascination with the power that caught her since childhood must have turned into something else. Love, if it was possible for someone like her.

She had lowered her eyes to ward off his look. Even in the dark, it was clear that she was blushing furiously. "No... You're wrong. What I feel is admiration for what you are, for your extraordinary magic..." She tried to deny, but every confidence was gone from her voice.

"Don't lie to me, Bella. Lord Voldemort understands many things, even those he despises".

Bellatrix leaned against the trunk of a tree, as if for protection, groping for some way to escape from the scene. She was alone, fighting against him and her own feelings. A squirrel, appeared out of nowhere, began to squeak from the branches, as impressed itself by the situation. "I thought to be a good Occlumens..." she murmured, after an awkward silence.

"You are. Don't need to read your mind to understand what you feel, you prove it at any time. But you mustn't; every trace of this useless feeling must disappear from your mind, if you want to serve me. Love makes weak, liable to be blackmailed. How many people have you seen falling because of that? It would be foolish to see you ending so badly. A waste".

Now, Bellatrix was trembling, as she felt his cruel words getting inside with no way out. Harry saw her clenching her hands into fists, until the knuckles became white. Then, gathering all the courage that still remained, she raised her eyes again. "I'm not weak. I _never _will be".

All happened in a few seconds. Harry saw her turning, drawing the wand and pointing it upwards, where the frightened squirrel was. Without saying a word, she waved it to the unfortunate animal, which was thrown into the air and began to squeak louder, this time in pain. Harry knew how much anger and hate she had to feel to torture someone this way, without even utter aloud the spell. Maybe, her desire to do evil was born just at that moment. Raged against the wrong people, the innocent victims of her cowardice... Of her, who would have liked to torture herself indeed, to get rid of all that _weakness_.

When the squirrel's shouts began to pierce the eardrums, when Harry was tired of seeing him suffer helplessly, Bellatrix waved her wand again, in silence. A flash of green light and the animal fell to the ground, his eyes empty and lifeless. Bellatrix looked satisfied; she had shown what her strength could reach. Voldemort was pleased, as he gave her a grin similar to a smile.

And then, it happened what Harry would never have expected. A most unusual episode than what had just happened, more than the entire conversation he had witnessed. Voldemort approached his servant, grabbed and pushed her against the tree, to rest just after his lips to hers. A kiss. He had given her a _kiss. _And she seemed smaller, more helpless than ever, close in a violent embrace without love; yet, Harry was sure, happy as she'd never been in her whole life.

"Well done" said Voldemort, when he parted from her. "But it was just a squirrel. Our aim is not to kill animals. What will you do, when you're in front of the real goal?"

"This won't stop me, my Lord. I'll cut off every man, woman and child who dares to come between you and your noble purposes. Let me serve, put my magic to your orders. I'll be your best witch".

Voldemort was smart. He had chosen that moment to kiss her, not only as a reward, but to keep her bound to him even more; because in memory of that kiss, in the future, she would perform every order without hesitation. He continued to hold Bellatrix by the waist, so much to hurt her. "You're not afraid" he said. "Even those who admire me usually are scared; you don't. Why aren't you afraid?"

"You are not like many people believe" she said, beaming. "You don't harm for no reason. Those people deserved what they have suffered. Because they were too stupid to understand what side to be, or too useless. I'm not like them, I've shown it and I'll continue to do so. Why would you hurt me? My blood is pure, it would be a waste". She paused, and noticed that Voldemort had liked that answer. "And if one day you change your mind... It would be better to die at your hands, rather than at someone else's".

Voldemort ran his fingers to Bellatrix's left arm, and with a flick pulled back the sleeve. Harry knew what was going to happen, and he felt he wanted a different ending. If Bellatrix hadn't become a Death Eater, Sirius would have been still alive, Neville's parents could have raised him, Hermione wouldn't have been tortured and Dobby ever been buried. All this, if that girl had backed off. If she had understood that what was trying to hide was the best part of her, but addressed to the wrong person. If only she had _chosen_ to follow a different route... But it was useless to hope for it. Harry saw Voldemort murmuring an unknown spell, while on Bellatrix's forearm formed a skull, similar to a tattoo, with a snake coming out of the jaw. It wasn't black at the time, but bright red. Bellatrix had to be feeling a little discomfort, judging from her expression.

"Will you be faithful?" he asked to her.

"Yes, my Lord, I swear. Forever".


	6. Family dinner

_- Family dinner -  
><em>

Harry didn't have much time to reflect on what he had seen. The trees and the night faded around him and turned into the interior of a mansion, in a large dining room. Five people were having dinner in silence around an abnormally long table, lit by chandeliers which stayed almost motionless in the air. At the head of the table was sitting an unfriendly looking man, who vaguely reminded Harry of Phineas Nigellus Black, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts. Next to him, there was the one who was to be his wife, a woman with a gaunt face and cold, composed manners. The Black sisters were sitting next to each other, but every one of them presented a different behavior: Bellatrix was eating slowly, you could tell she was rather playing with food, while her gaze was lost at some point in the room she didn't really see, lost in some kinds of thoughts; Andromeda, too, so similar to her in appearance and yet so radically different, was not eating. She looked tense, angry, and the cooled dish in front of her was to be the least of her problems. Only Narcissa seemed quiet, with no particular attitudes, evidently used to that kind of family dinners.

No one showed the slightest desire to speak, but suddenly a sharp noise aroused the attention of everyone. Andromeda had dropped a silver piece of cutlery on the edge of a plate, with the specific intent to cause that reaction. A moment later, in fact, she stood up, leaned both hands on the table and looked at her parents defiantly.

"Enough," she proclaimed. "I'm tired. Tired of you, and of all your indifference".

Nobody had appreciated the interruption. Mrs Black turned shocked to her husband, looking for his support. He also showed his disappointment, but tried to remain calm as he turned to his daughter.

"Could we know what's the reason for this statement, Andromeda?" he asked. "You were very rude to interrupt dinner, moreover with these tones".

"Good manners just don't interest me at this time. And about the reason, you know it very well. I asked for an answer, but you refused to give it to me. In recent times, you act like I don't exist!"

"Maybe because we didn't like your attitude, you think? And even now you keep making mistakes. Moderate tones, stop attacking us, and we can talk civilly".

"As if I hadn't tried... I've been trying to speak for months, to make you understand my reasons. But no, you don't want to hear! Prefer to close your eyes and stay in your world, perfect and elegant like this cutlery" and repeated the act of a moment before, as to reinforce the concept.

"Just to understand..." This time it had been the mother to speak. "We are still talking about that Mudblood?"

"His name is Ted, Mother! And just because his parents are Muggles it doesn't mean that he's unworthy of our people. He's a good wizard, and a good man". Her voice had softened as she talked about him. Harry had a pang thinking of the future that awaited her, of the fact that, one day, she would have lost both Ted and their daughter.

"I don't see what answer you're looking for, then," continued the woman, as if she had not even heard Andromeda. "You've got it. We'll never consent to the marriage, and indeed are unhappy to know that you keep dating that man. It's a disgrace, for you and for your family!"

"I'll marry him anyway. I just hoped that you would understand, over time, and maybe agree to meet him. But I forgot that your bigotry has no limits".

The girls' mother was deeply shocked and about to reply, but her husband silenced her with a wave of his hand. His tone was still calm when he turned to his daughter: "What I don't understand is why you are so obstinate to hang out with such people. You've met so many of your peers, in and out of Hogwarts, who could be to your height! Pureblood wizards, who would make you happy and wouldn't throw mud on our noble lineage".

"Obviously, Father, Andromeda is not proud to be one of us. She'd prefer to be like him, that Tonks, born in a filthy Muggle house!" Bellatrix had intruded for the first time in the conversation. She laughed, after having uttered those evil sentences.

"Of course I would prefer! Never ever I'll agree with the acquaintances of my dear sisters, that you approve so much! Like you, Narcissa, so bound to that Malfoy… Despite what he is, what he aspires to become..."

"Don't you dare offend Lucius!" Narcissa snapped immediately.

"Not to mention you, Bellatrix! Have you seen what is on her arm? Oh, of course you have, she shows it to everybody so much she is proud of…" Bellatrix didn't respond to the provocation, just looked at her with fire in her eyes.

"Your sisters have nothing to reproach themselves with, unlike you" continued Mrs Black.

"Of course, I should have known. Is this your last answer, then?" Andromeda was sadly resigned, as she watched her parents nodding solemnly. "Well. I will marry Ted and go out from this house. Even if you'll never accept that, he's the only one who can make me happy. He loves me for who I am… _In spite_ of my family". She walked away from the table and reached the door. Narcissa and Bellatrix set about to follow her, but waited for their father's consent before leaving. "Just this once" he specified. Harry realized that in that kind of family you weren't allowed to leave the table until the dinner was over. Soon, the room became silent again; only the ancestors of the Blacks remained, in the paintings on the walls, muttering about what had happened. Mr and Mrs Black went back to eat, impassive in appearance, but slightly paler than before.

Andromeda had reached her room, and with her wand was arranging clothes and other items in a trunk. The sisters were still in the doorway, observing the scene in disbelief. While Narcissa, however, looked unhappy, Bellatrix was rather curious, as someone who watches a show by the unexpected end.

"Was it really necessary to get to this point?" Narcissa asked.

"There's no other way, sorry. And then, you see, they don't care anything about me. I'll be better, far away from this house".

"It matters to us. You're still our sister, even though we don't agree with your own choices". Narcissa looked at Bellatrix, but she didn't seem of the same opinion.

"Forget it, Cissy" she said, in fact. "It's clear that she doesn't know what she does. She'll change her mind and come back with her tail between her legs".

"Don't count on it".

In less than a minute, her luggage was ready and Andromeda went to the front door. Narcissa turned away at the last moment, after a hasty greeting; she didn't seem to have the courage to see her go. Only Bellatrix stood still in the doorway, staring at her accusingly and slightly amused.

"I hope you understand what you do, really. You still have time to fix it, but not for long".

"I, instead, hope _you_ understand what you do". Her big, sweet eyes were reflected in her sister's ones, as if seeking in them a bit of humanity. "Our mother taught us that we need to earn everything, even affection. But trust me, it's not so, Ted showed me... You should be loved for who you are, not for the ways you choose. You want to please them, I know, that's why you became…" She could not finish the sentence.

"Please them?" Bellatrix laughed again, but it was a joyless laugh. "I don't do it for them, Andromeda. They will always be proud of me, I'm a Black in blood and soul. No... I do it for me. And for him. Because I'm _his_, finally". She drew back her sleeve to admire the Dark Mark, and Andromeda's face was filled with sadness. She knew she had lost her sister, and there was nothing more she could do.

_Notes:_

I've updated after ages, I admit it. Unfortunately, other things had priority. I thank you for all the reviews and hope you haven't completely forgotten the story :) Feel free to correct any errors, I'm sure I made it during the translation. Enjoy!


	7. The missing ingredient

_- The missing ingredient - _

A moment later, it was daylight. Bellatrix was in another room, maybe in another house, mixing a strange greenish potion with the same concentration of when she was a teenager. In front of her, a large window let the rays of a strong and warm sun pass, although the curtains had been drawn. That glow bothered her; Harry saw the woman covering her eyes with her hands, as if the light was a source of distraction. From time to time, she removed her hair from the sweaty skin, paused to observe the potion, puffed and finally came back to stir. Whatever she was preparing, it had to cost her a great effort.

The figure appeared behind Bellatrix without her or Harry noticing it. Even before he spoke, however, something had changed in the room: the sun seemed less hot, and it was perceivable even through a memory.

"An ingredient is missing" was his first sentence, without even a hello. But it had the effect of a hug for Bellatrix, who brightened, turning and seeing the beloved master. In fact, there was something different in the way they both looked at each other... Something more intimate. Harry wondered if it was a result of becoming Death Eaters. How was it possible that he had never noticed? Maybe it was, when Voldemort was still alive and Harry had something else to think about, dealing with his henchmen. Or it was a special treat, reserved only for her? He couldn't find an answer.

"Your potion" continued Voldemort, "will never work without that ingredient". Bellatrix stopped admiring him and only then seemed to understand what he meant. She turned back to the cauldron, filled with the greenish substance, and realized she was making a futile effort. It seemed she had no idea of what was missing, but she didn't dare to ask.

Voldemort sat in front of her, at last obscuring the light, and cocked his head to one side, watching her. She didn't speak and continued to stir, but was clearly distracted.

"Something bothering you, Bella?" he asked, a little later.

"It's for my sister, my Lord," she explained, "Andromeda. She's determined to marry that filthy Mudblood Tonks... All of us had the illusion it was the usual crush, that she would return home after a couple of days, but no! She sent us an owl with the wedding invitation. _The invitation_, you know? For my parents, a curse would have been better, they would have stood it more easily. She's ungrateful, selfish! She had no respect for those who grew her up, nor for her own blood. We'll become a laughing stock for all our acquaintances, because of her".

"Don't worry so much. People forget, with time. The real fault only remains to those who committed it. And they understand, sooner or later... Or someone else reminds them". Voldemort had picked up his wand and rolled it slowly between his fingers, as he spoke that comment. The gesture was almost more frightening than the words.

"This is certain, my Lord. She'll regret it". Bellatrix was evil, too, too much to be talking about her sister. "Thank you, really... You're the only one who understands me so well, who always listens to me. I adore you for this, too…" And she became so different, so absurdly sweet, as she spoke to him. She was admiring him again, now, forgetting what she was doing until recently. Her hands stretched on the table almost imperceptibly as to want to touch him, but never exceeded an invisible barrier. Yet, Voldemort noticed it; he pulled away quickly, as if to expand that barrier even more, and his gaze hardened.

"Maybe you should get married, too".

It was as if a knife had been stuck in her chest. Harry felt, perceived it, as though he was not just looking at the scene but lived it through her, as she had lived. From the beginning of that journey, he had realized that her memories seemed more powerful than all the others he had visited; they could lead him nearly in that woman's mind, and make him share more than he would have liked. They were filled with a new, unknown magic.

"What? Me...?"

"Yes, Bellatrix, you. Unlike your sister, you could marry someone to your height. The pretenders don't miss, I think. And so, you would redeem your family from their biggest disappointment".

"I... I don't know, I never thought about that" she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "But it won't be necessary. Narcissa will do it, even before me… She's so fond of Lucius, and like him wants a family, children. A Malfoy will be welcome in our house".

"I have no doubt". The conversation had taken a strange turn. In appearance it looked trivial, but there was something in the air, a sore point they both avoided touching, bypassing it. But while Bellatrix seemed to be afraid of it, Voldemort behaved that way on purpose, as to torture her mentally.

"But this doesn't change things," he continued, his voice falsely sweet. "You don't want to get married? I thought you liked Lestrange. He's ambitious, capable. He looks like you".

"We have a good relationship. But I never thought…" she repeated. "I'm young, I still have many projects, and…"

"One thing doesn't exclude the other" he interrupted her. He rose from his chair and began to approach her, slowly. "Lying to me is useless. You haven't learned it yet, after all this time". Once again he seemed to know everything about her, about what she thought and felt. Bellatrix blushed and felt weak, exactly as in that night in the woods.

"I know what you would like" he said slowly, getting closer and closer, "but you mustn't dare even to think about it. Don't confuse desire with something else, Bella, and don't forget who I am. What I give you is so much, but you deserve it because you're a good witch. The rest doesn't belong to us".

Bellatrix glanced up at him, and they looked at each other for a few, long moments. "Yes, my Lord. I know".

"Do you want to wait for me forever?" he asked, derisively. Before returning serious, glacial, and saying: "Don't disappoint me".

A moment after that last request, Bellatrix turned and left the room. Harry followed her through a corridor and another door, which led into an elegant marble bathroom. He stood in the doorway, not knowing whether to continue, when he saw her stopping in front of the mirror and staring at her own image. In her, were mixed together anger, pain, passion… A multitude of emotions that Harry could feel, too, in the grip of the power of those memories. He could almost hear her thought, so confused, crazy and yet united by a common thread. _Riddle. Damn Riddle… _She allowed herself to call him that way when she was alone, free from that presence that understood and stifled every emotion; a presence that, despite everything, she wanted viscerally, without limits. She looked herself for a long time, until Harry knew, as well as all the other things, she had made a decision. She drew her wand and pointed it at the mirror, murmuring: "_Diffindo_". The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, that fell and scattered in the sink and on the floor. Then, Bellatrix chose one of those fragments, the one which seemed the most pointed, and grabbed it firmly in her hand. A cut deeper and deeper formed in the palm while she held it, with the intention to provoke that injury. Still, the pain seemed almost to make her feel better, so much that she smiled devilishly seeing that her own blood flowed. Eventually, she dropped the piece of glass in the sink, fisted her wounded hand and turned back to the room she had just left. For the first time, Harry could not understand her intentions. Even Voldemort looked confused, when he saw her returning in that state; but as soon as he noticed the wounded hand, he smiled smugly.

"Here, my Lord," said Bellatrix. She brought her hand to the cauldron and, finally, Harry knew what she wanted to do. She opened her palm again, until a few drops of blood fell into the potion that, immediately after contact, became as clear as water. A tricky aspect of what was supposed to be a thousand times more dangerous. "The missing ingredient".

-Notes:

Thank you for all the reviews, I'm so sorry not to be faster in posting! Anyway, this chapter is one of my favorites... I wish you like it, too!


	8. Because he wants so

_- Because he wants so -_

Bellatrix was in front of a mirror again. It was intact this time, full-length and reflected the image of a more grown, more conscious woman. She was dressed in a green silk gown, a very elegant one, that leaved her back uncovered and gave her an almost regal look. As she stared seriously at her own reflection, Narcissa was behind her and was trying to collect her hair in an elaborate crop. The contrast between the two sisters was even more evident when they were so close: Narcissa's delicate and thin fingers got lost in Bellatrix's thick black hair, the fair skin and serene expression of the one seemed incompatible with the darkness and hardness that transpired from the other. Yet they were there, together, preparing for what had to be a special occasion.

"No way!" Narcissa exclaimed, letting part of her sister's hair fall. "It doesn't want to stay in place. It's almost more rebel than you".

A half smile curled Bellatrix's lips, but only for a moment. "Let it down. That's how I always wear it, I can't see why it should be different today".

"Perhaps because it's you wedding day". Here it is, the reason for their elegant gowns. "You didn't even want the white dress, as it should be for a bride".

"It's not for me, you know. You're the candid and pure one of us, you'll wear it when the time comes. I don't even like this ridiculous pastel color". It was clear that she wasn't lying: the expression in the mirror showed her disappointment for those silk drapes in which she was wrapped.

"Oh, I know. You'd be able to dress in black, if our mother had not insisted so much. You're terrible". Bellatrix smiled again, in a hardly noticeable way, for that tender reproach. Narcissa let go her job completely and sat down beside her, becoming suddenly serious.

"Tell me the truth. Why you decided to get married?" she asked, looking at her through the mirror.

"For many reasons. Now I don't know what you expect to hear".

"The real ones, Bella. Not the official ones you have dispensed to friends and family. I'm your sister, I deserve something more".

"I didn't lie" said Bellatrix strongly. "To anyone. If you really want, I'll list them again. First, because Rod proposed to me. I like him, we hang out since school and have the same ideas for the future. I don't see why I should have refused. Second, because I'm tired of being a daughter and want to become a wife. A house of my own, a life I can decide at my leisure what to do with. You should understand me in this, it's what you want, too. Third, because also our parents deserve it, after Adromeda's betrayal". The list ended there. Yet there was another reason, the most important one, which was very present in her head but didn't dare to come out of her lips. Again, even Harry felt it as if he could read her mind. _Because he wants so. _

"What you say is so... serious, rational" said Narcissa, unconvinced by that answer. "It should be good for some kinds of choices, but not for a wedding. I will marry Lucius because I love him, and for no other reason at all I would do it".

Bellatrix was about to reply, but her sister stopped her, preventing it. "Yes, I know what you're going to tell me. That love is nonsense, that it doesn't suit our people. But I don't agree; there's also who deserves our love, and once you thought it too. The ideas you have now don't belong to you, they aren't really yours… as though someone else imposed them on you".

Bellatrix didn't appreciate that last sentence. Her glance hardened and her right hand gripped the fabric of the skirt. "No one can force myself into anything, Cissy. If I have an idea, it's only mine. If I change it, it's my choice. And if you think otherwise you're wrong".

Narcissa seemed shocked by that reaction. Her sister was very susceptible, when the chords of her influenceability were touched. "All right" she granted, finally. "Then I must be wrong".

She rose slowly from her chair and walked back behind Bellatrix. "It will be better to help with magic" she said. Immediately after, with a flick of the wand, the hair returned perfectly arranged in the crop. It took only a few moments, however, and a strand was free again from that imposition, falling overbearingly on Bellatrix's face. "I knew it" was Narcissa's comment. But you're beautiful anyway. Oh, you still lack one thing".

Narcissa turned away for a moment, and then was back to her sister again. In her hands was something thin and shiny, like a gold chain. Bellatrix turned curiously.

"It's a family memory" Narcissa explained, revealing at the end of the chain a silver colored pendant, studded with small diamonds that formed a B. "Traditionally it's given to the eldest son's wife, but in our case, only you can get it. It was fate that it was yours, after all. It also fits your name".

She ran her hands around Bellatrix's neck and put there that jewel, which at the touch of her skin seemed almost to shine more.

"Thank you" Bellatrix whispered, watching in rapture the pendant in the mirror. Her fingers stroked the edges of the letter.

"Rodolphus is happy" said then Narcissa, surprising her. "He couldn't believe you accepted his proposal. It's one of those fools who feel love" she teased her.

"I'm happy too. Really". Harry couldn't tell if that response had convinced Narcissa, but she said nothing. And Bellatrix, observing herself behind the rebellious lock that covered part of her eyes, for the first time smiled actually.


End file.
